Lose Myself
by gothic-musings
Summary: Takes place around 14 months after the end of Season 7, Buffy and the gang are living together. All of a sudden, Giles and Buffy are blowing up at one another due to one small thing because Buffy isn't ready to face Giles' feelings for her nor hers for h


Title: Lose Myself

Author: gothicmusings

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: The story is titled after the song "Lose Myself" by JC Chasez. I've included the full lyrics at the end. Yeah, I know, a song by a former NSync member, but in my defense, when I read the lyrics to this song, I thought they fit perfectly so don't kill me. Don't you love when things click together? And don't be mad if it leaves you kinda wondering, cause I do plan for a sequel to it.

Disclaimers: Joss owns the characters, JC owns his song. I wish I was the one making money off them but alas, I remain a struggling college student.

Feedback: Yes, please! To quote my friend Wickedfox, I'm a feedback whore. grins

Summary: Problems arise between Buffy and Giles, but will Buffy even care to resolve them? Takes place about 14 months after the end of season 7.

_Unconsciousness. Sudden consciousness._ Heavy lidded eyes cracked open. The clock flashed 4:32 a.m. in lime green to his tired sight, and he rolled away to lie on his right side, clutching a pillow to his bare chest, groaning against it over the good night's sleep that had escaped him for the third night during this hellish week. Fighting for rest once again, Giles couldn't force his mind to forget the dream, nor any of the others he'd had numerous times over the last few months, since the night following Sunnydale's transformation into a gigantic crater. His arms still wrapped around the pillow, he rolled his head, peering back at the clock once more. 4:47 am. "Damn it," he muttered as he released his downy lover and tossed it behind him, folding his covers back and swung his legs over the side of the bed.

His head swam in the euphoric effects of the dream, his body refusing to cooperate despite his urgency for a trip to the bathroom. The soft, barely broken-in mattress gave underneath his weight as he slid off the bed. As he flicked on the lamp, the room illuminated and he cringed, his pupils shrinking from the sudden splash of white light in his eyes. He rubbed them with the back of his rough hand; scars crisscrossed the skin, marring it deeply, and he reached down with the other to pluck his glasses off the table. Putting them on, he scratched his scalp as he padded barefoot across the carpet to his bedroom door, yawning as he groggily opened it and exited into the main hall.

Lucky for Giles, no one had slipped into the bathroom before him, as they tended to gravitate towards this place at this time of morning; he heard the sound of his feet on the cold, dark green tile in time with the thud of his heartbeat, his finger flipping the switch and filling the room with fluorescent light. _Crack. Pop._ The light faded back to black once more. "Bloody light bulb," he spoke into the dark as he flipped the switch on and off several times. "Oh, these bulbs are more efficient, Giles, and they conserve more energy," he said in a mocking tone. "I imagine they do when they explode and leave you in the dark." Having learned the new house fairly well, he decided to forgo changing the bulb right away and shut the door to use the bathroom in the dark.

A groan escaped him as he leaned against his arm on the wall, and a steady trickling streamed as he closed his eyes, relaxing until he was sure his bladder was empty. _Click. _His eyes popped open, and his head jerking to the side as the door creaked open, the last of the steady stream coming out as he panicked over who it was. He'd forgotten to lock it in his frustration over his loss of light, and failed to consider that the first of the morning's bathroom invaders would awaken soon. _Strike one._

There was a yawn being stifled in the dark, and he heard the switch flipping repeatedly. He knew the owner of that yawn. Then the door was slammed shut and the distinct slap of bare feet could be heard on tile. _Uh-oh._ Tucking himself back into his jogging pants, he made a slight girlish yelp as he backed into the towel rack behind him, and his hand slapped over his mouth as it slipped out.

"Giles?" he heard the feminine voice call out to him. "Is that you?"

"Y-yes it's me. The, umm, light bulb went out, and I was going to replace it when I had finished. Just...just stay right there. I'll be there in a minute." She didn't reply, but she stayed put as he washed his hands and fumbled around for a towel. He could hear her breathing, and he bit down on his lip as he closed his eyes, listening for the direction of the source. He took two steps forward and didn't realize that he now stood directly in front of her. The heat from her body radiated out to him and he swore. Buffy's breath hitched in her chest as he brushed up against her accidentally. "Oh, t-terribly so-sorry," he stuttered as his hand brushed against her hip, and he groped in the dark for the doorknob. _Strike two._

Buffy backed against the crack of the door as he opened it, the coolness of the hallway seeping in and icing down the embarrassed flush in her cheeks. "It's...it's ok. No harm done."

'That's what you think,' he thought to himself. Opening the door fully, he tried to slip past her into the hall, but she seemed to have the same idea and stepped out at the same time, the small space squishing them together. Her stature, being almost a foot shorter than his, provided for a rather uncomfortable moment as his groin slid tightly across her waist. The warmth of her skin combined swimmingly with the near dream state he suffered from, lending itself to a unique response from the Watcher elicited by the simplest of touches from his slayer.

Buffy paused and looked up at him, the light from her bedroom glazing over her face as his eyes met hers. He never imagined he'd receive the emotion she expressed in them at that moment: disgust; she looked absolutely disgusted with him and the apparent involuntary reaction his body was having with her close proximity. His hand reached out to touch her shoulder. "Buffy...I'm-

I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." and her head jerked to the side as she slid out of the doorway completely and rushed back to her bedroom, slamming the door. _Strike three._

"Great, just sodding brilliant." Ignoring the lustful sensation, he marched downstairs to the kitchen in search of a replacement bulb, giving her a moment to cool down before he approached her.

The light in the bathroom flicked on and off as he flipped the switch. "There. All done." He turned the light off, shutting the door behind him, and walked across the hall to Buffy's bedroom. He knocked, hoping she would let him in to talk, but he received no reply. She was going to give him the silent treatment for now. His head dropped as he laid his hand flat against the solid wood of her door. The others would be awake soon to rush around and get on to whatever their plans were for the day, so, with his tail tucked between his legs, he slunk back to his bedroom.

For the next two weeks, day in and day out, Buffy and Giles were at each other's throats, usually over something as snide as a remark over breakfast. At one point, Willow thought Buffy was going to swing at Giles to shut him up after he went on a tangent about her lack of common sense, but she stepped in between the feuding pair and sent them off into their respective corners to cool down.

"You two have got to cut this out!" Willow yelled at them, her gaze floating from one to the other. "I mean, God, you act like you're five." Lowering her defensive stance between them, she pointed for them to separate. "Go to your rooms!"

Buffy looked at Willow, shocked she had instructed her like a child, and she was about to say something to her, but the stare she received snuffed out all fight that welled within her. She grabbed her coat, and left the house, slamming the front door. Willow shook her head as her ears picked up the frustrated speed with which Buffy's shoes clomped down the stairs.

"Stupid Giles and his stupid temper," she sulked as she walked down the boardwalk towards the beach. Things were really getting out of hand between her and Giles; so bad that the sweet conversations were replaced with hurtful words. No longer did they share casual speech but instead, often found themselves caught up in slinging insult after insult whenever they were in the presence of the other for longer than five seconds. Nevertheless, it wasn't her fault. Not in her mind. He was the one who had done what he had done; her hand glided to that spot on her abdomen where he'd pressed against her. She hadn't instigated a thing.

She hadn't walked far when she heard the sound of a car door shutting and the roar of an engine. "That sounded like Giles' car." She turned around, walking back up to the house. His BMW was gone, and she could see twin spots where his tires had spun, slinging gravel from his usual parking space. He had to be furious because she knew he never tore out of the driveway like that unless he was mad. Walking into the house, she shrugged out of her coat, laying it across the back of the couch. She bumped into Willow who was coming around the corner from the kitchen and collided with her. "Willow, where's Giles?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "He left, said he was going into town for a little while. I don't know what the hell is going on with you two, but this is sad. This borders on the insane at times." She walked into the kitchen, setting her can of soda down beside her laptop and a pile of papers she was researching for Giles, more than likely something for the Council reconstruction that she and Giles were working feverishly on since Sunnydale's demise. "What has gotten into you two?"

"We kinda have some unresolved issues. Don't worry about it, Will."

"But I have to, Buffy. It's tearing this family apart. Xander's afraid Giles is going to leave, and Dawn says you've been hitting a training bag harder than ever lately." She sat down at the computer, her fingers gliding over the keys as she looked at the screen, pulling up a few things, then looking up at Buffy. "But enough is enough. You've talked before, got over whatever it was bothering you both, hugged, and went about your merry ways. What's different this time?"

Buffy shook her head. "Trust me, Will. This time it's different." Willow's brow creased and Buffy waved her hand. "Just don't worry about it. Listen, I'm going to go upstairs to lie down. Umm, you know where to find me if you need something." Willow nodded as she took a sip of her soda, her eyes glued to the computer screen. Trudging up the stairs, Buffy headed to her bedroom, but not before she stopped and stared at Giles' bedroom door. It was ajar, and, though she wasn't a snoopy one when it came to his privacy, she looked around and sucked in a deep breath as though she were going into the trenches of war, pushing the door open and walking inside.

His room was immaculately clean, as per his neat freak personality, and she had to be very careful because if she moved anything, he'd know someone had been in his room. Her eyes fell on the picture by his bedside, one from when they had first moved back to California, to Laguna Beach-- a place they figured they could all begin again together. Willow had gone photo crazy, insisting that she take pictures of happy times because she said they didn't know how long it would last. Buffy picked up the silver frame, smiling at the memory. It was the gang's first day on the beach below the house, and she had managed to get Giles to wear something besides pants and a t-shirt. Xander had went with him into town and forced him to buy what he called "real men swim trunks" and when Giles had come out of the bathroom wearing navy blue swim trunks with white Hawaiian flowers all over them, they all cat-called at him, making every inch of the white skin on his body flush red.

She and Giles had just walked down to the beach, their towels in hand when Willow stopped them, waving her camera in their face, demanding they pose for a picture. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, and she placed hers around his waist, so that they embraced one another as Willow snapped the shot. They had looked so happy in that photo, a sign of a time not so long ago for all of them. Sighing, she put the frame back and looked at his bed, smirking at what she had found. A small black leather-bound journal lay open in the center of his bed, a fountain pen lying in the middle of a page. She reached over, picked it up and leafed through the pages. Damn him! He had written it in one of those ancient languages he knew; it appeared to be Latin, which was just an educated guess on her part, but she had heard him and Willow recite enough passages in it to recognize a few specific words in the passages he had written down. Moreover, she saw her name repeated many times throughout the text. He was writing about her, and she knew it was wrong of her to go through his diary like this, but she had to know.

Closing the book, she walked downstairs to find Willow still tapping away furiously on her laptop. "Hey, Wills, I got a favor to ask of you." Willow glanced up from her work, offering a smile to Buffy's somber expression. "Sure, Buffy, what's up?" She opened Giles's diary to the last page, where the thin scrap of fabric he used for a bookmark was placed, and she handed it to Willow.

"I need a translation of the entire entry there."

Willow glanced over the handwriting and her eyes widen. "You took his diary? Buffy, how could you?"

She shook her head. "No time to explain. Just scan the pages quickly so I can get it back in its place before he comes back."

"I don't like this, Buffy. He'll kill me if he finds out."

"So, I'll tell him I looked it all up myself on the internet. He'll believe that." Her eyes pleaded with Willow. "Please? I need you to do this. I gotta know what this says."

Willow lifted the top of the small flatbed scanner next to her laptop and laid the diary down flat. "Alright, but if you get caught, I had no part in this whatsoever." Buffy shook her head and made a zipping motion over her lips. "Not a peep from me."

After Willow scanned the four pages into her computer, Buffy hurriedly replaced the diary back the way she had found it as best she could remember, and went downstairs to see how the translation was coming along. Pulling up a chair next to Willow, she leaned over as the translation program was piecing together the text on a separate screen next to the original and she stared in anxiousness for it to finish. There was a click and a beep and Willow grinned. "It's done." She ran her finger over the touchpad, moving the mouse to scroll over the words, some of it useless dribble like what he'd done that morning or how Xander had annoyed him in some fashion. Once they weeded through the babble and observations, her eyes narrowed at the rest of the text.

"Buffy has turned out to be more than I could have ever hoped for in my slayer, and she continues to surprise me to the fullest extent every single day I wake up and am greeted with her smiling face," Willow's voice sounding as though she were reading a cue card. "Whenever I think I couldn't love her any more than I possibly do, she flashes a smile or hugs me casually, and my heart soars beyond the heavens. God, help me, I love that silly girl with every fiber of my being, and she does not even see how much it grieves me to be at her side, but never fully with her. Too much of that bloody wishful thinking, my highest hopes for the future will always remain at the forefront of my mind, but I know she'll not let me in, not the way I want. She'll never embrace me or the idea of loving me in return, and, in my duty, I shall remain beside her, serving her as best I can."

Willow sat back in her chair. "Wow. I gotta say that was more than a mouthful. Buffy?" But Willow turned her head to find her best friend gone, and she heard the forceful slam of a bedroom door. "Damn."

A few hours later, Willow heard the sound of a car pulling into the driveway, and she turned around, glancing through the kitchen window to see Giles and Dawn getting out of the car. Giles had picked her up from school while he was out in town blowing off steam and had treated her to her favorite ice cream. She could see Dawn's tongue catching the dribble that ran down the side of her cone as she threw her backpack over her shoulder. She heard laughter from the pair as they walked inside, and Willow emerged from the kitchen to greet them both. "Hey Dawnie, didja have a good day at school?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, letting her pack slide to the floor in front of the door. She saw Giles point to it and she rolled her eyes, picking it up and setting it on the couch. "I got an A on my biology test today so Giles took me out for ice cream. Want a taste?" she said, holding out the cone towards her.

Willow waved her hand. "No, thanks, gotta cut down on the sugar intake. Makes me babble, which is something I need to work on since it leads to me telling things I shouldn't and that usually gets me in trouble with people and there's that whole thing about me not knowing how to stop myself when I turn on the flow and I'm doing it again...Dawn, why didn't you stop me?"

Dawn chuckled as she walked past her into the kitchen with her half melted ice cream, leaving Willow with Giles. He appeared to be in higher spirits, but with him, appearances were definitely deceiving as this man could hide the deepest scar with a nod and a smile. "Giles, are you ok?"

"Yes, Willow, I'm fine," he spoke, hanging up his jacket in the hall closet. But he couldn't evade the witch's intense "resolve face" and his shoulders sagged in defeat as he plucked his glasses from his face, cleaning them furiously. "Alright, things are a bit...taxed as of late, but I can assure you, it doesn't concern you."

"Yes, it does!" she shot back at him, loud enough to make his head jerk back. "You and-and Buffy just keep on running over each other with this same train, and I'm sick of it. We're all sick of it: me, Dawn, Xander, especially me because this is not how it's supposed to be."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means something's gotta give, or this family's gonna fall apart, and it will be your fault and Buffy's, too. Look," her hands propped themselves firmly on her hips, "I know you're in love with Buffy and-"

"Pardon? Did you say in love? Where did you get that idea?" His eyes stared into hers, and his face hardened, awaiting her answer.

"Umm..." her eyes focused on everything but his face, "I told her not to read it!" she blurted out, Giles' back straightened as she panicked in front of him. "But- but she found it lying open and she had me translating it. I didn't know what it was until it was too late..."

"You read my journal! Willow, how could you? That was not meant for any of you, especially not Buffy!"

"I didn't think it would say that!"

"Oh, God," he cringed as he covered his mouth. He replaced his glasses in a huff, and his jaw tightened, his eyes glazing over with anger. "You had no right! She had no right! Do any of you have any respect for me or my privacy in this house?"

"Giles, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean any harm...I just thought maybe I could find out what's got you two so wound up over one another." The young witch's face pleaded with him not to be so mad with her, but the violation of his trust was too fresh for him to be so readily forgiving. He waved his hand at her, dismissing any further comments she might have said, shaking his head in revulsion at her actions. Making a quick motion for the stairs, Willow grabbed him by the elbow, and he stopped, letting out a slow long breath from his lungs as he turned his head, his eyes filled with a heartrending ache. "I am sorry, Giles. I just wanted to help."

"I know, Willow, but it's between Buffy and I."

"Maybe so, but it affects us all." She let her arms envelope him in a strong hug, and his heart melted as much as he tried to ice it over to the situation at hand.

His arms folded around her, and he hugged her in return. "I know...and I'm sorry, too." He slid out of the embrace and, giving her a fleeting look, went upstairs.

Buffy had opened her door after hearing Giles come in, and was listening in on his conversation with Willow. So now he knew the truth, and so did she, changing everything between them. She'd heard enough, tired from the arguing, she sat down on the edge of her bed. The heat from the sun had begun to make her sleepy as she stretched her arm above her head, stifling a yawn with the other hand, her toes wiggling in the warmth of the rays that spilled over half of the bed. She glanced at the small gold watch on her wrist that Giles had given her for her birthday this year; it was nearly two in the afternoon.

"Perfect time for a nap," she said to herself as she shifted, lying back on her pillow, cuddling into the blankets, moving momentarily to draw around her the quilt Giles had bought for her while they were in London, purchasing it because she had said the shade of green had reminded her of his eyes, comforting and familiar. She snuggled into it deeply, hugging one of her pillows under her arm like a lover as she drifted off, her breathing leveling off to long, slow inhalations.

She hadn't bothered to close her door in all this time, and, moments later, the tall figure of Giles leaned against the frame, one arm folded underneath his head as he watched her sleeping form. His heart ached as he studied her; had it really come down to this for him? Had he become so pathetic that he only satisfied himself with stolen minutes of gazing when she'd have no idea what he was doing? There was only so much a soul could take before it'd disintegrate from the anguish of suffering in silence, and, with each fleeting moment, his was rapidly burning up, and his love close to driving him mad. He could do this for hours, his eyes roaming over her golden tresses that spilled out over her pillow as she slept, worry-free for once in her life, and he inhaled deeply. Her scent permeated everything in that room and his head tilted as he lowered his arm, crossing them over his chest as he breathed in, his heart thudding rapidly in his chest.

Willow stood at the top of stairs, nearly dropping her can of soda as her eyes fell on Giles, and it all fell into place. He loved that girl more than anything in this world or the next, and even Buffy admitted once they'd fight to the death for the other. Even without a spell, she could feel his aura calling out in pain; emotions such as his screamed to her, like he wished something would take it away, and make him feel at ease over this. Setting the soda down on the little table by the staircase, she moved as silently as she could over to Giles, then placed her hand on his elbow and squeezed. Caught by surprise, he let out a semi-girlish scream, making both him and Willow jump. Waving her hands about to calm her heart, Giles turned and put his hands on her shoulders, trying to quiet her. "Shh, Willow!" he said low but forceful. "I don't want Buffy to know."

"Know what?" a voice came from behind him in the room. "Like why you were watching me while I was asleep?" she said, her hands on her hips as she cocked her head to the side. "Slayer senses, Giles. Thought I didn't know you were there?"

His lips parted to speak, and his lips trembled as he tried to map out his words carefully. "Buffy...I-I didn't..." but he was cut off by the door slamming in his face.

His eyes glanced over at Willow who had already begun a steady retreat back downstairs. She stopped for a minute and looked over her shoulder. "This is your fight, Giles, and you should fight for her or you're gonna lose her altogether." She continued on to the kitchen.

Giles, unable to face Buffy after all that had happened today, shook his head as he locked himself in his bedroom.

Another week passed by, incident-free for the time being as Buffy and Giles seemed to walk over proverbial pins and needles around each other. Giles knew something was wrong; it was one thing for her to be angry with him for the bathroom accident, which was what it had been--a pure accident--but Buffy failed to acknowledge that or any apologies he spoke, allowing them to fall on deaf ears each time he made the effort. Somehow, she acted...different, aloof, and that worried him even more. He couldn't even get her to look him in the eye anymore, as though she were hiding a secret. And the axe fell on an already volatile situation.

Alone at last. Giles was relieved the others were out of the house, if even for this brief time, the opportunity he desperately needed to try and repair the damage done. Willow, Xander, and Dawn had left for the evening, saying that they were taking in a movie, but Giles knew why they left. They were fed up with the bickering, tired of the fights between him and Buffy ever since the bathroom incident; a foolish mistake had cost him a relationship he treasured more than his own life at times. He didn't mean to let that happen; it just did. Now she looked at him and cringed and that look wounded him more deeply than any sword to the belly or knife to the heart ever would. Giles sat on the edge of his bed, his fingers flipping idly through the diary Buffy had read and translated, and made a resolution. This would finish here and now tonight. They would either work around the handicap that had developed between them, or their friendship, their partnership would remain crippled forever.

He lay the diary down in the center of the blankets, closed with his pen lying on top of the black leather-bound journal, rough and worn around the edges, much like its owner, and he sighed. He was about to face the hardest task in his life, something more dangerous than any demon or apocalypse: a matter of the heart. Standing, he walked over to the mirror on the far wall, still as he could be for a moment as he examined himself in it. Sighing, he took off his glasses, folded them, and set them down on top of the dresser. Something told him to leave them behind for once and he felt naked without them, his crutch, on his face to give him comfort during a worrisome moment in his life.

Buffy was just taking her black leather jacket from the closet, her house keys jingling as she dropped them in her pocket when she heard the creak of the staircase, her senses alerting her to his presence. She figured she would say nothing and simply walk out, but, as her hand turned the doorknob, she was stopped short by the sound of him clearing his throat. She rolled her eyes. "Damn, I was so close, too." Turning around, her head tilted up and she looked at him, an annoyed expression on her face. "What?"

He spoke as he continued down the stairs. "Buffy, things have been a bit...strained between us lately," he said as he made the last step and moved towards her, but slid to a stop when she took a step back, "And I wanted for us to have a proper conversation about this, about us, without the others here to interrupt."

"I don't have time for this. I have somewhere to be," she said, making a motion to leave.

"No, you don't. You keep running from this, but it has to stop. And it's going to stop right now."

"Who are you to tell me what to do? You're not my father."

"No...no, I'm not, nor do I have any wish to be."

"So I noticed about three weeks ago. That was disgusting; you do realize that right, Giles?"

His hands flew up in exasperation. "I'm human, Buffy! And I'm a man, a fact you've trained yourself not to notice about me." He dropped his hands to his hips, drawing in a deep breath and releasing it slowly. "I'm not bloody well neutered. I cannot control an involuntary bodily function."

"I heard the sound you made. You enjoyed it," she punctuated, pointing her finger at him.

"I cannot believe you are willing to...to be this callous towards me for something that was an accident."

"Accident or not, it was gross, Giles! I didn't expect you, of all people, to want to jump on the 'Laying Buffy like good tile' train."

"You really are a self-centered bitch like everyone thinks you are." Before he could stop himself, the words had slipped and fell upon her keen sense of hearing.

She stalked up to him, closing the five or six feet of space between them. "What did you say?" her voice so angry, Giles thought he saw poison drip from her tongue.

He straightened his posture, not afraid to speak his mind any longer on the matter, his green eyes intense, almost wild. "You heard me. It's always about you, never anyone else but you. How do you think I feel? Do you think I wanted you to find out this way?" Muscles pulled taut in her arms as she flexed her hands in and out of fists and he began to circle her. "I used to harbor this great fantasy that I'd set the mood, play up something to the best of my romantic talents, and tell you in my own way how much I cared about you, how much I loved you. However, like a fool, I shook my head countless times and tried to push all this aside. I hoped you would be better than this and at least be willing to understand, but I was right in my assumption." He stopped in front of her again, and leaned so close to her, she could feel the heat radiating from his flushed cheeks. "You truly are a self-centered bitch."

And he didn't even see the blinding swinging of her fist as it connected squarely with his jaw, knocking him back, his arms waving as he lost his balance. He teetered for a little while before he dropped to his knees; the thud of his weight as he fell to them shook the coffee table next to him as he caught himself on its edge. His eyes closed as his face pulsed where she struck him, his free hand coming up to cup his bruised jaw, his eyes soft now; tears rimmed and fell as he looked up at her. "How dare you!" she yelled, but she heard him mutter something under his breath. "What?"

"Do it again."

"Do what? Hit you?" He nodded. Never one to question Giles' requests ever, she pulled back and swung her arm, the back of her hand coming hard across his jaw. His jaw trembled as she grabbed it again, his body leaning back on his feet from the strength of the slap. Then he straightened himself and in an upward motion, hit her across the face with the back of his own hand in response. Her face moved with the force of it, and she snapped back, her head jerking into place, her eyes glaring at him wildly. "What the hell was that for?"

"To make you understand. I want you to know how it feels for me every single day I have to walk around this house and you no longer look at me but through me. Like I do not exist to you. I'm tired, Buffy. Physically and emotionally drained from this...this bickering, this stupid display we carry on with simply because you refuse to acknowledge that I love you, and not the safe way you'd wish." He watched as she rubbed the barely reddened spot on her cheek and his hand lifted and pointed to it. "That pain you are experiencing, that slow throb in your cheek, I want you to think about it, how it feels and I want you to multiply it by eternity. Now take that and walk around daily with that pain burning in your soul." Her eyes widened, and a tear rolled down her cheek. He stumbled as he moved one foot, propping himself on the table as he struggled to get to his feet. Once he was standing, he wobbled a bit before he stood straight, his eyes connecting with hers and nearly boring a hole through her. "Now you understand the pain that has become so familiar to me that it's like a second skin. But no more. I'm finished with this."

She shook her head, clearing the cobwebs of thoughts that clouded her thinking as he spoke. "Wait a minute. What do you mean?"

"I'll be leaving for England next week."

"No! You can't! Not when we've built our lives here. We're all finally a family and at peace, and you're going to just leave all this behind? Leave your family? You coward."

"How can you label me a coward when I finally had the courage to tell you how I felt...how I still feel about you and always will? Because I won't sit here and allow you to treat me any way you see fit? If there is a coward between the two of us, it is you. Because had the roles been switched and it were you walking around like a ghost, you would have expected me to accept your declaration with a modicum of respect even if I had not felt the same. Instead you turned this into the circus of attention you crave so much."

Her mouth dropped at his bluntness, and she couldn't figure out which to be angrier with him for: the fact that he was right, or his decision to leave and abandon them all. He turned to walk back upstairs. "I'm going to bed. I shall tell Willow and the others of my decision in the morning." She let him walk out of her life again, just as she always did, pushing him away to his farthest point when he needed her the most. He prayed, silently weeping as he went to his bedroom, hoping she would change her mind and come after him, but she didn't. All she could do was stand there, the pain in her jaw nothing more than a memory, and that was just what he had intended. He wanted her to look back on this night and remember--remember how she let him slip out of her life silently into the night once more.

She had done it again. She'd slammed the door in his face for the final time, shutting him out of her life, but, despite the damage she'd done, she could not shut him out of her heart completely, even to protect him from herself. He had rounded the corner out her sight to his bedroom, and she growled with frustration. How could he put her on the spot like this? He was going to leave, and it would be all her fault. The others would blame her, especially Dawn. Other than Buffy, Dawn had been the biggest lobbyist for Giles to live with them, even after he had argued endlessly that it would be better for everyone if he remained in England. Dawn had followed him around like an abandoned pet, giving Giles the best guilt trip any Summers woman had ever pulled on a man in her life.

Buffy remembered how Dawn had acted the day they were all to leave for the States. Giles stood on his porch, and Buffy could not recall a time he had ever looked so depressed, rivaling his period of grief after the loss of Jenny. He had hugged each of them, and it was down to Dawn and Buffy. Buffy stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him and hugging tightly, her face buried itself into his thick sweater. She could still smell him on her, the Perry Ellis cologne she had bought him this past Christmas mixed with that woodsy smell men who worked in the outdoors tended to build up in their skin, something that was all Giles and almost indescribable to one who had never been close enough to him to get a lungful of his aroma. His hand had rested on the back of her neck, the other comfortably fitting in the small of her back as he rubbed and stroked those key spots. She had breathed a sigh as if she had released all her burdens in one whoosh of air from her lips. He was willing to let her go, to spare her of the knowledge that his heart would forever lie with her, but Dawn had known better.

_Dawn had kept close tabs on them in small instances when they did not know she was there; she had not earned the title of Watcher Junior for nothing. She had seen one final chance to get him to change his mind, and she had to take it, if not for the sister she loved more than life itself, then for the man she had come to know as a father. So when it was her turn to hug him, she jumped at her opportunity. When Giles had let his hands slide from around Buffy, she purposefully appeared impatient to them, tapping her foot with her arms crossed over her chest, feigning an irritated look. "Stop hogging him already! I want my turn."_

_He and Buffy stood, their hands still nestled safely on each other's arms as she peered over at Dawn. "God, will you wait a minute? Kinda busy saying goodbye here."_

"_Well, hurry up; time's a wasting."_

_Buffy turned her head back to him, looking into those green eyes, eyes that embodied a gamut of emotions all at once at any given moment and he smiled down at her. "Yes, the clock is ticking, Buffy," he said as he reached one hand up to her cheek, rubbing his thumb across her cheek bone, and out of longing, he kissed her forehead affectionately, his eyes closed for that brief touch. Breaking away, she smiled at him, and taking a step back, was almost shoved down the stairs as Dawn tore between them for her turn._

"_Damn it, Dawn!" Buffy sputtered as she faltered backwards, regaining her balance, but Dawn ignored her as she hugged Giles, squeezing him as hard as she could. Nearly his height, she was able to reach his ear more easily and she tucked her head in the crook of his neck as she hugged him, waiting until she heard Buffy's shoes clomping down the steps. Then she struck._

_Her voice barely above a whisper, she said two short sentences, but long enough to make an impact on him. "Do it for her, Giles. Fight for what's yours." The tiny hairs on the back of his neck bristled at her words, just as Buffy stopped walking. He watched her, thinking perhaps she had heard Dawn, but then she walked on, lending to his disappointment. His hand patting her on the back, he released her with a final squeeze and she looked up at him. She had faith he would do the right thing. _

"_I love you, Dawn. Always remember that."_

"_Why don't you tell her that?"_

"_I cannot bring myself to do it."_

"_And why not?" she questioned sternly._

"_Because I'd rather take what little I can get than have nothing at all." With that, he touched her cheek and ushered her to join the others in the car. _

_Buffy had not heard whatever Dawn and Giles were talking about when she walked away, but she gathered it was some last minute guilt laid on thick because she turned around to look at him before ducking into the car and she thought she saw a glistening tear on his cheek in the distance._

_Two weeks later, Giles had received a call from Willow, telling him that they were all right and settling in nicely for the time being with Buffy's father in LA while their house was built. Giles had given them each a check before they left, money "for a job well done" he had drawn out of the Council's funds, causing each one of them to scream with delight; even Xander let out a girlish squeal at the amount of zeros on his check. A final decision was made for all of them to remain together, and they had pooled their finances and hired a construction team, headed up by Xander, to build a house on the beach, a place they had all loved back in their Sunnydale days. Giles was so proud of them, how they were still working together to take care of one another. She told him how everyone was fairing, that Dawn had not yet gone back to school but was carrying on studies of her own, telling everyone that he would one day come back and train her to be a Watcher for the reformed Council. He chuckled, and it eased Willow's mind to hear him laugh, even just a little. Then he asked about Buffy._

"_H-how is she, Willow?"_

"_Umm, she's pretty good. She doesn't talk us a whole lot any more. She seems so bored now. But LA is keeping her a bit occupied, you know. This place is full of creepy crawlies. She still goes out and patrols; guess it's just force of habit. And she comes home, but she looks so empty, Giles."_

"_Empty? What do you mean?"_

"_Like she misses you."_

"_Oh." The line went quiet._

_Willow heard the front door open and saw Buffy coming in. "Ooh, Giles, here she is. You wanna talk to her?"_

_He cleared his throat. "If sh-she wants to talk." His heart hammered in his chest as he waited to hear her voice on the line. Then his eyes closed at the soft call of his name, and he practically beamed. "Hello, Buffy, how are you?"_

"_A little slayage here and there to keep me busy, but I'm of the good so no worries. You haven't called," her voice solemn with that statement._

"_And I truly apologize. I've been a bit, umm, busy making arrangements."_

"_Arrangements?" her tone hopeful._

"_Council business with the new slayers."_

"_Oh. Well, don't let me keep you."_

"_It's alright, Buffy. I have not heard your voice in weeks and...it is good to talk to you. I shall try and do better about calling." He could tell she was mad at him, but she would have to deal with it on her own; he couldn't always be there for her. 'And why not' his conscience argued. 'It is better to be at her side as a ghost than not be near her at all.' "I'll call you in a few days when things have died down a bit around here; will that be alright with you?"_

"_Fine. Whatever."_

"_I shall talk to you soon. Tell Dawn and Xander I said hello for me." Then they said their goodbyes and he hung up, dropping the phone to its cradle._

_He did not call as he had said he would, so Willow had called him. No answer as usual. Another week went by and still he had not called. Will tried again, but this time she received a message that the number was disconnected. "Disconnected? How could that be possible? Buffy, you don't suppose something's happened to Giles, do you?" her eyes taking on that classic panicky Willow glaze. _

"_I don't know, Will, but it's unlike Giles to not keep his word." _

_Then there was a knock on Hank Summers' door. Buffy and Willow stood in the living room with the cordless phone between them as her father rushed through to answer it. "Buffy! Willow! It's for you!" The two friends glanced at each other, and then looked at the small archway that led from the living room to the den, Hank emerged followed close by someone just a little taller than him. He sidestepped, and Buffy's eyes brightened as she ran forward and nearly crushed the man in her arms. _

"_Giles! Oh, God, we were so worried about you. We called and never got an answer, and then the line was disconnected and..."_

"_You're rambling...and you're crushing the oxygen from my lungs," he strained._

"_Oh! Sorry!" She let him go, allowing Willow her turn to hug him after he had recovered some of his lost ability to breathe. "Now I want to know why your phone is cut off."_

"_There's a perfect explanation for that. I won't need it anymore."_

"_How'd you figure that? How else are we supposed to get in touch with you? Carrier pigeon?"_

_Giles chuckled. "No, actually. You should be able to see me or speak to me at any hour of the day or night you should like."_

"_Meaning?"_

"_I'm coming home," he paused, "if you'll have me."_

_Eyes wide, she nearly leapt into his awaiting arms. "Of course! You know, for someone who boasts about his intelligence, you can be a real dumbass sometimes." Giles rolled his eyes and smiled, and once again, their family was whole._

Now it was falling apart all over again, and she was to blame. All because she was afraid of his feelings. For once, she didn't know how to approach this situation because it was Giles, not Spike, not Angel, not a normal guy, but Giles. Giles who was supposed to always remain the neutral man in her life, loving her unconditionally but never falling in love with her. It wasn't supposed to be this way. She didn't want him corrupted by the train wreck that was her love life; she couldn't do that to him, no matter how much she loved him. Because in the end, it always fell apart, but if this went horribly wrong, there was more at stake than had been with the others. She would lose Giles, and not just her, but the rest of them would suffer without him in their lives. She had to think about this more. He would be telling the gang of his decision to leave in the morning, and she had to change his mind by then. She had to convince him to stay somehow.

Her hand fumbled around in her pocket; her keys were still there. Opening the door, she left, heading down to the beach for a midnight stroll to clear her head. The Scoobies would be back by the time she returned and, hopefully, sound asleep.

__

Little more than a lamp illuminated the living room as Buffy locked the door behind her, hanging her coat up in the closet and setting her keys on the small wooden table near it. She felt gritty from her walk, as if she had sand in every crevice of her body, and a shower was deemed necessary as she walked upstairs, her eyes lingering on Giles' closed door on her way to her bedroom.

She watched the water in the shower swirl down the drain, washing away the sweat of the day and the salt of the ocean, but not an ounce of her worries traveled down that dark tunnel with the grime. Her hands on the wall, she dropped her head underneath the hot spray of water, letting the massaging jets beat against her neck. She still hadn't thought of a way to make Giles change his mind, short of saying more than she was willing to reveal right now. She wasn't even sure that was how she felt about him. Buffy loved Giles very much, more than she had ever let on to him on any given day, and, as the shower cleansed her, her heart ached as she thought about the hell she had put him through recently. God, she had even hit him...twice! What the hell was she thinking?

She turned in the stall, leaning her back against the cold tile, sighing as she closed her eyes. Working lavender body wash into the loofah, she ran the coarse textured sponge over her skin, moaning, as she scrubbed away the day's harshness. Then her mind wandered to thoughts, bad Slayer thoughts. His hands on her heated skin soon replaced the loofah in her mind as she ran it over her body; a semblance of a whimper escaped her throat until she realized what she had been doing. She banged her head against the tiled wall once. How did it come to this? There was no way she could be falling in love with Giles.

She finished the rest of her shower in haste, dressing for bed in a pair of light gray sleep pants and navy blue spaghetti strap tank top. She shut the bathroom door quietly, keeping any noise of her movement to a minimum. She glanced at his closed door as she crossed the hallway to her own, teeth chewing on the corner of her lip as she considered her options; it would be so easy to slip inside and talk to him. Sure, he would jump out of his skin at her stealthy entrance, but it was a small price to pay to keep the others unaware.

A few steps, and she found herself standing outside his room, her eyes appraising the situation she was about to enter. Inhaling deeply, she slowly released a little of her fear with the breath as she exhaled, just as Giles had taught her to do when she found herself in circumstances that seemed insurmountable. Gradually, she turned the brass knob, cursing under her breath at the long squeal of the mechanism. _Click. _Setting one foot inside the crack, bit by bit, she crept inside, her body swallowed up by the darkness as she entered. A moan and then a squeak of the mattress, she knew he was tossing in his sleep as her slayer hearing picked up the flutter of the covers being kicked off, a sound all too familiar to her from her own bouts of restlessness. Moving to the foot of his bed, she stumbled over one of the blankets pooled on the floor, almost falling on top of him, but with grace, she kept her balance, her hands seeking out where he had positioned himself. Her fingertips glided over the heels of his feet, and he giggled in his sleep; she smiled at the relaxing sound of his laugh. Judging from the small touch, he was lying on his stomach, but she wasn't sure if he was clothed or not, as he tended to slumber nude when the mood struck him as she had found out from Willow's "accidental" discovery one morning. The eager witch went in to wake Giles for breakfast, because he had not yet come out of his room, only to find him sound asleep, tangled in a mess of bed sheets that covered the essentials to keep his dignity intact.

Leaning over him, Buffy reached out, letting her hands touch his calves briefly to assess. Sweatpants, just as she thought, and Buffy breathed a sigh of relief for the reprieve she had been granted. She sat down at his side with her hips lined next to his, making the mattress dip as she drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, bringing her head to rest on top of them. She listened to his heavy breathing as he shifted, bunching his pillow underneath his head more. She heard him sniff, as if he was preparing to cry, and she bit down on her lip, stifling an urge to speak.

"I don't want to leave," he spoke aloud, her head lifting from its position as she listened to see if he said anything else.

'He's talking in his sleep,' she mulled, her head tilting as she considered her next course of action. She removed her arms and let her legs fall straight, and she laid her hand in the middle of his back, rubbing in soothing circles. Leaning down, she brought her mouth to his ear, the twinge of her heated whisper made his skin twitch as she spoke. "Then don't."

His head turned over to the other side as he rubbed his ear against the pillow. "You've given me no choice, Buffy. You don't want me here..." he trailed off as he shifted again, this time feeling the weight of her against his back. 'Nothing but a dream,' he thought, as he tried to ignore her voice in his head.

"Of course I do, Giles. I will always want you here with me. I love you," she whispered in his ear, her warm lips placing a tender kiss to the space behind the other.

His eyes popped open, his brain trying to piece together everything through the fog of sleep. His arms slipped out from under his head as he turned over, her hand lifting to allow him to adjust. He ceased to move as she twisted her body so that she now faced him, her palms flat against his stomach, as she looked down at him, unable to see him in the inky black of their surroundings. He didn't say anything, and did not move, her brow knitted together, confused with what he was doing. "Haven't you done enough for one night? Wasn't hitting me sufficient, or have you come to wound me just a little more? Maybe not with fisticuffs, but words can be just as excruciating."

She could not see it, but he turned his face away from her to stare at the wall, a fat tear rolling down his cheek. Her head dropped when she heard him sigh, and she knew she had caused some irreparable damage that night, but despite feeling hopeless about their obstacle, she had to try. "I'm sorry. And I hope you'll forgive me, maybe not tonight, but in time. I need you to forgive me, Giles. I can't go around everyday thinking about what this has done, what I've done, to us."

"Of course, because you just don't deserve any more guilt in your life," he said, his words soaked in sarcasm.

"Now that's not fair!"

"Not fair?" he growled. "I'll tell you what's unfair!" Grabbing her wrists, he sat up in bed fast, toppling her as he pushed her backwards, her shoulders lying against his ankles, her hands pinned to the bed. "This! This is unfair! You...here...like this, and I have to maintain some aspect of control because you found it amusing to sneak into my room and torture me again." He slid his legs from under her, and Buffy felt her body drop inch by inch to the blanket as he brought much of his weight to bear on top of her. Her legs flopped out to the side of the bed, one foot dragged on the carpet. "Why couldn't you just let me bow out gracefully?"

"Because I don't want you to leave!" she spat back. His head jerked back at the force of her voice. "I lied," her voice barely audible, "It was all a lie, because...because I didn't want you to end up like the others."

His grip on her wrists loosened. "What do you mean 'like the others'?"

"Angel...Riley...even Spike. I didn't want you to become another victim of the senseless violence that is otherwise known as my love life."

His hands released her, his fingertips dragging lightly over her forearm as he propped himself up. "Do you honestly believe being harsh toward me would alter my feelings for you in any way?"

"You mean it didn't?"

"Not in the least. Rightly, I was angry because you refused to acknowledge them, but I realized I can't stop loving you, even when I go back...it's...I'm still going to feel wretched everyday I am without...you."

She could hear the inflection in his voice, how he fought to steady himself at the end of his declaration, her mouth going dry as she frantically tried to think of words to soothe him. Nothing came to mind to convey what she was thinking, and, allowing her instincts to kick in, she let her actions speak volumes for her. Her hand reached up, tracing the outline of his face with the backs of her fingers, searching out his mouth in the dark. She smiled as her thumb ran over his warm, inviting lips, feeling the muscles at the corner curl into a soft smile of his own. Moving her hand to the nape of his neck, she drew him down to her, her lips seeking his, and, kissing very lightly, initiated something deeper between them.

His fingers tangled themselves in her damp locks as their lips touched and wrestled, her tongue running over his, pleading for access. Indulging her mouth's persistent request, his lips parted as her tongue slipped past, the tip licking along the roof, and her fingers entwining in his tousled curls. His hips lifted as he redistributed his weight, but it was long enough for her to hook one foot underneath him, sliding the rest of her leg fully into place; her hand coasted down to cup his buttocks as she ran her sole up and down his calf. Buffy moaned into his mouth as his back arched, sliding his groin upward between her thighs, and as she felt his reaction, Giles broke off the kiss, his lips still lingering on her face as he brushed them gingerly over her chin and down her neck to the base of her throat, her head tilting back as she felt the searing touch of warm velvet kissing the dip in her collarbone. Her fingernails scratched his scalp, grinning when he gasped against her neck and ground himself into her. Her hips thrust to meet his, craving more of him; she wanted to lose herself in this moment, to forget the pain they were both in, all because of her stubbornness and inability to come to terms with her own feelings. She wished she was eloquent like Giles, able to express himself without bluntly speaking what he felt, but he didn't always have to say it; it could always be found in those green depths whenever she wished to know. The question was why hadn't she noticed the love that was there before? 'Probably because I was selfish and refused to follow the signs.'

'No time like the now to see for myself,' she thought, as she pushed against his shoulders. His head moved, and he lifted himself, his face the epitome of sadness, but she couldn't see any of it in the dark.

"Buffy, have I done something wrong?"

She shook her head, forgetting he couldn't see her motion. "I want to see your eyes."

"My...eyes? What on earth for?"

"Just indulge me here for a minute, Giles." She felt his hands slide down her body as he rolled off her, letting her sit up. He drew himself into a sitting position, his legs crossed and reached for one of his pillows, laying it in his lap to cover his embarrassing erection. The lamp clicked, and light spilled over them, chasing away the security blanket of the darkness as they looked at one another for the first time since she had slugged him. Buffy glanced down at her lap, then back up at Giles, her hand lifting and beckoning him to come to her.

He shook his head. "You can come to me. You wanted to see them." Rolling her eyes, she crawled the foot or so of distance between them and settled on her knees, her hand reaching up to touch his face as her eyes searched his. "Just what is it that you wish to see?"

Her fingers stroked his cheek. "What I've been ignoring in you all this time," she answered him. His expression softened as the tenderest smile claimed her mouth. "There it is. I found it."

"And what might that be?"

"Love. Love that'll be there for me long after we've both faded into dust and nothing is left but the stories of our heroics over the years that the Scoobies' children will pass on, everyone's except mine," she finished sadly, her gaze falling from him.

He frowned. "Why not yours? You're not longer the Chosen One. You are free to live what passes for normal for any of us now."

She stretched out in front of him, laying her head on the pillow in his lap. She didn't want to look at him when she discussed this with him. "You don't understand, Giles." His hand took hold of hers as his other lay comfortingly on her cheek, the pads of his fingers stroking back and forth over the fine peach fuzz that covered her skin. "When Willow brought me back...it wasn't without its consequences. I..."

His fingers stroked around the curve of her chin as he looked down at her. "It's all right, Buffy, you don't have to tell me..."

"Please, just let me do this, Giles. Let me get this one thing right." She turned her head, her eyes casting up to look at him. "I asked Tara once to check on the spell that Willow used because Spike was able to hit me." Giles frowned. "Let me finish before you say anything." He nodded. "She said that other than a basic cellular modification, I was fine, but I knew...I knew there was something wrong. I ignored things...things I shouldn't have. I didn't come back whole, Giles."

"I'm still having trouble comprehending what you are talking about, Buffy," his eyes narrowing in the light.

"I can't have children because when I was brought back, certain...parts weren't restored. I only noticed it after I stopped being with Spike." She noticed him wince at the mention of the vampire and turned her eyes away from him, looking straight ahead at the chair in the corner of the room. "I thought it was because of the roughness that I was missing my monthly curse, but I went to the doctor after you took Willow back to England."

Giles breathed in deeply, letting the air out of his lungs slowly. "And what did the doctor tell you?"

"She said," she paused for a moment, licking her dry lips, her hand tightening around his, "that I have polycystic ovarian disease. She said that my uterus and ovaries are producing massive amounts of cysts and there's this pesky problem with an overabundant uterine lining that can't support a pregnancy ever, and the cysts have pretty much halted my body from producing anything that could ever become a child. And it's untreatable, so it's permanent."

His brain froze. Buffy couldn't have children. Ever. As much as it pained him to hear her to state that, there was nothing he could do. Magick made her this way, and he refused to use it to undo the damage, for fear he could do more harm. His eyes trained on her movements as she let go of his hand, tucking it underneath the pillow, her fingers grabbing hold of his sweatpants, tugging on them tightly. He didn't know what he could do to possibly make this any easier for her, as he looked down at her, his fingers combing through her hair. "Buffy, I'm sorry. I wish there was something I could do or say..."

Lifting her head, she sat up, and his hand floated in midair before letting it lie in the warm spot where her head used to be. Her hand wiped away the tears rimming her eyes before she feigned a smile, trying not to act as if this bothered her in the least. "It's ok, Giles. I just wanted you to know because, well, if we move forward with each other, you know, in that way, I didn't want your expectations to get shattered." Her gaze wandered down to her hand drawing invisible circles in the blanket. "I don't want you to feel trapped or stuck with anything less than what you deserve."

"You silly girl," he said, his index finger and thumb grasping her chin. He tilted her head up until he met with watery green-blue pools, his fingertips brushing over her jaw, cupping her face and drawing her lips to his. His calescent breath breezed over her tepid skin, and his tranquil voice spoke comforting sentiments as he pressed his lips to hers cautiously, then fully, suckling her bottom lip gently into his mouth, his tongue running across them begging for entrance. It swept over every inch inside her mouth, relishing in the flavor of her, something worth savoring, and locking its memory into his brain.

His hand traveled southward down to her ribs, his fingers bearing into the flesh through her skimpy tank top as she moaned against his lips, her fingers combing themselves through his longish hair. Settling his hand on her hip, he grasped the thin material of her pants, clenching and wadding it in his grip as he leaned to his right, and with just the right amount of ushering, the two of them fell to their sides, the kiss breaking as they landed against the pillows. They laughed for a second or two as they regained their composure, then Buffy's expression sobered.

"Giles?" she questioned, the tip of her index finger tracing the scar on his forehead, one of the few he had that wasn't because of her or their calling because it was the first thing she had noticed about him on their first meeting.

"Yes?" He grabbed the intrusive cushion between them, tossing it aside, and drew her closer to him, his hand resting on the small of her back as she snuggled into his embrace, her head cradled in the crook of his arm.

Her hand ran underneath his shirt to rest on his stomach. "You know I love you, right, that I'm not just saying this to get you to stay, because I want you to be happy?"

Smiling, he kissed her forehead affectionately then touched his to hers, taking in a deep breath. "I believe you, and...oddly enough, I understand the motives with which you acted these last few weeks."

She blushed, ashamed at the mention of her behavior. "Would you have left next week if I hadn't said anything?"

"Maybe not back to England, but I would have left this house. I said that, but it was a snap decision I made in the heat of the moment." He paused. "I don't think I could bring myself to be so far away from you or any of the others. My life is here...with you." She grinned, and he kissed her delicately. "We should get some sleep."

Biting her lip, she peered up into his eyes. "Can I stay here with you for the night? I kinda like this closeness thing we have going on here and, for once, I'd like to wake up in your arms."

He nodded and kissed her once more, before twisting his body to turn off the lamp behind him. Their forms were blanketed in shades of night as the light switched off, and her leg wrapped itself around his as she brought him to lie fully against her, the hand on his stomach snaking around to lie on his back. She winced in the dark as her palm met scar after deep sinewy scar along his spine and shoulder, and she did nothing but cling tighter, hugging his warm frame.

He adjusted his head until she had tucked hers underneath his chin, his fingers playing with the ends of her long blond hair, the fragrance of her filling his senses. "I love you," he said, kissing the crown of her head before going to sleep.

**Lose Myself**

**By JC Chasez**

She loves daffodils and

She keeps 'em on her windowsill

When the wind blows, her smells fills the room

She dreams in color

but does she know that I love her?

I'm swimming in my abyss of insecure blue, yeah

And I'm losing my head

And I can't get no sleep

But if I reached out

Would you reach out for me?

Knocked unconscious

Walking on water cuz I'm thinking of you

Don't you know that love's intoxicating

And I need the abuse?

Because I'm endlessly falling

You're my destiny calling

What you're making me do

It's all because I lose myself in you

All because I lose myself in you

I don't want to be invisible

I just wanna be compatible

Longing for something that can only be filled by you

Cuz I'm fighting with my confidence

Build up my courage

Give myself a chance

Because the only thing I think about is you, yeah

Do you know that I'm here?

Do I even exist?

I'd dance on velvet skies

With just the thought of one kiss

Knocked unconscious

Walking on water cuz I'm thinking of you

Don't you know that love's intoxicating

And I need the abuse?

Because I'm endlessly falling

You're my destiny calling

What you're making me do

All because I lose myself in you

All because I lose myself in you

I see the beauty in your strength, baby  
And you fight to keep it in you, yeah

But I break down your walls with my army of love

Take a journey through my heart; it's a test of fate

As we hold each other close, our spirits gravitate

Let's drift into forever as our boundaries melt away

I find myself intoxicated by this drug  
Sent to my knees, cause I'm addicted to your love  
All because I lose myself in you  
All because I lose myself in you

All because I lose, I lose myself in you  
All because I lose myself in you

If you share with me then I'll find you

And I'll meet you there, down in nowhere

If you share with me, then I'll find you

And I'll meet you there, down in nowhere

Baby, my life is yours, just open up the door

I can't believe I found you, yeah yeah

Cuz if you share with me then I'll find you

And I'll meet you there, down in nowhere

down in nowhere


End file.
